"Get up! Ginny — Emma, Hermione — come on now, get up, this is urgent!" 

I sat up quickly and the top of my head hit canvas." 'S' matter?"I said.

 Dimly,I could tell that something was wrong. The noises inthe campsite had changed. The singing had stopped. I could hearscreams, and the sound of people running. I slipped down fromthe bunk and reached for my clothes, but Mr. Weasley, who hadpulled on his jeans over his own pajamas, said, "No time, Emma —just grab a jacket and get outside — quickly!"

 I did as I was told and hurried out of the tent, Ginny and Hermione at my heels. 

By the light of the few fires that were still burning, I could seepeople running away into the woods, fleeing something that wasmoving across the field toward us, something that was emittingodd flashes of light and noises like gunfire. Loud jeering, roars oflaughter, and drunken yells were drifting toward us; then camea burst of strong green light, which illuminated the scene. 

A crowd of wizards, tightly packed and moving together withwands pointing straight upward, was marching slowly across thefield. I squinted at them. . . . They didn't seem to havefaces. . . . Then I realized that their heads were hooded and theirfaces masked. High above them, floating along in midair, fourstruggling figures were being contorted into grotesque shapes. 

Itwas as though the masked wizards on the ground were puppeteers,and the people above them were marionettes operated by invisiblestrings that rose from the wands into the air. Two of the figureswere very small.

 More wizards were joining the marching group, laughing andpointing up at the floating bodies. Tents crumpled and fell as the marching crowd swelled. Once or twice I saw one of themarchers blast a tent out of his way with his wand. Several caughtfire. The screaming grew louder.

 The floating people were suddenly illuminated as they passedover a burning tent and I recognized one of them: Mr.Roberts, the campsite manager. The other three looked as thoughthey might be his wife and children. One of the marchers belowflipped Mrs. Roberts upside down with his wand; her nightdressfell down to reveal voluminous drawers and she struggled to coverherself up as the crowd below her screeched and hooted with glee. 

"That's sick," I muttered, watching the smallest Mugglechild, who had begun to spin like a top, sixty feet above theground, his head flopping limply from side to side. "That is reallysick. . . ." 

Harry, Ron, Fred and George came hurrying toward us, pulling coatsover their night clothes, with Mr. Weasley right behind them. Atthe same moment, Bill, Charlie, and Percy emerged from the boys'tent, fully dressed, with their sleeves rolled up and their wands out.

 "We're going to help the Ministry!" Mr. Weasley shouted over allthe noise, rolling up his own sleeves. "You lot — get into thewoods, and stick together. I'll come and fetch you when we've sortedthis out!" 

Bill, Charlie, and Percy were already sprinting away toward theoncoming marchers; Mr. Weasley tore after them. Ministry wizardswere dashing from every direction toward the source of the trouble.The crowd beneath the Roberts family was coming ever closer.

 "C'mon," said Fred, grabbing Ginny's hand and starting to pullher toward the wood. Me, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and George followed. We all looked back as they reached the trees. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was larger than ever; we could see theMinistry wizards trying to get through it to the hooded wizards inthe center, but they were having great difficulty. It looked asthough they were scared to perform any spell that might make theRoberts family fall. 

The colored lanterns that had lit the path to the stadium hadbeen extinguished. Dark figures were blundering through the trees;children were crying; anxious shouts and panicked voices were reverberating around them in the cold night air. I felt myselfbeing pushed hither and thither by people whose faces he couldnot see. 

Then I heard Ron yell with pain."What happened?" said Hermione anxiously, stopping soabruptly that Harry walked into her. "Ron, where are you? Oh thisis stupid — lumos!" I illuminated her wand and directed its narrow beam acrossthe path. Ron was lying sprawled on the ground. 

"Tripped over a tree root," he said angrily, getting to his feetagain.

 "Well, with feet that size, hard not to," said a drawling voicefrom behind us. 

Me, Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned sharply. Draco  wasstanding alone nearby, leaning against a tree, looking utterly relaxed. His arms folded, he seemed to have been watching the sceneat the campsite through a gap in the trees.Ron told Malfoy to do something that I knew he wouldnever have dared say in front of Mrs. Weasley. It made Hermione go "ron!"

 "Language, Weasley," said Malfoy, his pale eyes glittering. "Hadn't you better be hurrying along, now? You wouldn't want her spotter would you?" he nodded to hermione. 

Then he saw me. "Emma! Bloody hell, are you alright?"

"She's fine" snapped Harry "let's go."

"Oh, shove off Potter. She's my friend--"

"She's my sister!"

"Oh, shut up" I snapped "Dray, what did you mean by what you said?"

"Emma, they're after Muggles," said Malfoy. "D'you want her to beshowing off her knickers in midair? Because if you do, hangaround . . . they're moving this way. If you don't move; seriously Ems, I am not joking."

"Hermione's a witch," Harry snarled. 

"Yes, but she's a muggle-born Harry" I whispered "it may not mean anything to us, but to them--" I nodded to the masked people "--it would!"

"So you agree with him?"

"Yes! Look at it logically, you idiot! Muggleborn doesn't mean anything to me, but we all know some people hate them. Excuse me for caring about my friends!"

Draco said "I suppose your daddytold you all to hide, Weasly? What's he up to — trying to rescue theMuggles?"

 "Where're your parents?" said Harry, his temper rising. "Outthere wearing masks, are they?"  

Malfoy turned his face to Harry, still smiling."Well . . . as a matter of fact they're helping the ministry. Emma, you alright?" 

"Fine, Dray. You?"

"I'll be fine."

We moved off.

 Fred, George, and Ginny were nowhere to be seen, though thepath was packed with plenty of other people, all looking nervouslyover their shoulders toward the commotion back at the campsite.

 Ahuddle of teenagers in pajamas was arguing vociferously a little wayalong the path. When they saw Me, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, a girlwith thick curly hair turned and said quickly, "Où est MadameMaxime? Nous l'avons perdue —" 

"Er — what?" said Ron.

"It's french". I said

 "Oh . . ." The girl who had spoken turned her back on him, andas they walked on they distinctly heard her say, " 'Ogwarts."

 "Beauxbatons," muttered Hermione. 

"Sorry?" said Harry.

 "They must go to Beauxbatons," said Hermione. "You know . . .Beauxbatons Academy of Magic . . . I read about it in An Appraisalof Magical Education in Europe."

 "Oh . . . yeah . . . right," said Harry.

 "Fred and George can't have gone that far," said Ron, pulling outhis wand, lighting it like Hermione's, and squinting up the path. So did Harry. I dug in the pockets of my jacket for my own wand — but itwasn't there. The only thing I could find was my Omnioculars. 

"Ah, no, I don't believe it . . . I've lost my wand!"

"You're kidding!" 

Harry, Ron and Hermione raised their wands high enough to spread thenarrow beams of light farther on the ground; I looked allaround him, but my wand was nowhere to be seen. 

"Maybe it's back in the tent," said Ron.

 "Maybe it fell out of your pocket when we were running?"Hermione suggested anxiously. 

"Yeah,"I said, "maybe . . ." 

I usually kept my wand with me at all times in the wizardingworld, and finding myself without it in the midst of a scene likethis made me feel very vulnerable.A rustling noise nearby made all four of us jump. 

Winky thehouse-elf was fighting her way out of a clump of bushes nearby. Shewas moving in a most peculiar fashion, apparently with great difficulty; it was as though someone invisible were trying to hold herback.

 "There is bad wizards about!" she squeaked distractedly as sheleaned forward and labored to keep running. "People high — highin the air! Winky is getting out of the way!" 

And she disappeared into the trees on the other side of the path,panting and squeaking as she fought the force that was restrainingher. 

"What's up with her?" said Ron, looking curiously after Winky. 

"Why can't she run properly?"

 "Bet she didn't ask permission to hide," I said. 

I wasthinking of Dobby: Every time he had tried to do something theMalfoys wouldn't like, the house-elf had been forced to start beating himself up. 

"You know, house-elves get a very raw deal!" said Hermione indignantly. "It's slavery, that's what it is! That Mr. Crouch made hergo up to the top of the stadium, and she was terrified, and he's gother bewitched so she can't even run when they start tramplingtents! Why doesn't anyone do something about it?" 

"Well, the elves are happy, aren't they?" Ron said. "You heard oldWinky back at the match . . . 'House-elves is not supposed to havefun' . . . that's what she likes, being bossed around. . . ." 

"It's people like you, Ron," Hermione began hotly, "who prop uprotten and unjust systems, just because they're too lazy to —" 

Another loud bang echoed from the edge of the wood. 

"Let's just keep moving, shall we?" said Ron, and I saw himglance edgily at Hermione. there was truth in what Draco had said; perhaps Hermione was in more danger than we were. We set off again, I still searching my pockets, even though I knew my wand wasn't there. 

We followed the dark path deeper into the wood, still keepingan eye out for Fred, George, and Ginny. we passed a group ofgoblins who were cackling over a sack of gold that they had undoubtedly won betting on the match, and who seemed quiteunperturbed by the trouble at the campsite.

 Farther still along thepath, we walked into a patch of silvery light, and when we looked through the trees, we saw three tall and beautiful veelastanding in a clearing, surrounded by a gaggle of young wizards, allof whom were talking very loudly.

 "I pull down about a hundred sacks of Galleons a year!" one ofthem shouted. "I'm a dragon killer for the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures." 

"No, you're not!" yelled his friend. "You're a dishwasher at theLeaky Cauldron. . . . but I'm a vampire hunter, I've killed aboutninety so far —" 

A third young wizard, whose pimples were visible even by thedim, silvery light of the veela, now cut in, "I'm about to becomethe youngest ever Minister of Magic, I am." 

I snorted with laughter. I recognized the pimply wizard:His name was Stan Shunpike, and he was in fact a conductor onthe triple-decker Knight Bus. I turned to tell Ron this, butRon's face had gone oddly slack, and next second Ron wasyelling, "Did I tell you I've invented a broomstick that'll reachJupiter?" 

"Honestly!" said Hermione, and she and Harry grabbed Ronfirmly by the arms, wheeled him around, and marched him away.By the time the sounds of the veela and their admirers had fadedcompletely, we were in the very heart of the wood. We seemedto be alone now; everything was much quieter. I looked around. "I reckon we can just wait here, youknow. We'll hear anyone coming a mile off." 

The words were hardly out of my mouth, when Ludo Bagmanemerged from behind a tree right ahead of them.Even by the feeble light of the three wands, U could see thata great change had come over Bagman. He no longer looked buoyant and rosy-faced; there was no more spring in his step. He lookedvery white and strained.

 "Who's that?" he said, blinking down at them, trying to makeout our faces. "What are you doing in here, all alone?" We looked at one another, surprised. 

"Well — there's a sort of riot going on," said Ron. 

Bagman stared at him."What?" 

"At the campsite . . . some people have got hold of a family ofMuggles. . . ." 

Bagman swore loudly."Damn them!" he said, looking quite distracted, and withoutanother word, he Disapparated with a small pop!

 "Not exactly on top of things, Mr. Bagman, is he?" saidHermione, frowning. 

"He was a great Beater, though," said Ron, leading the way offthe path into a small clearing, and sitting down on a patch of drygrass at the foot of a tree. "The Wimbourne Wasps won the leaguethree times in a row while he was with them."

 He took his small figure of Krum out of his pocket, set it downon the ground, and watched it walk around. Like the real Krum, themodel was slightly duck-footed and round-shouldered, much lessimpressive on his splayed feet than on his broomstick. I waslistening for noise from the campsite. Everything seemed muchquieter; perhaps the riot was over. 

"I hope the others are okay," said Hermione after a while.

 "They'll be fine," said Ron

"Those poor Muggles, though," said Hermione nervously."What if they can't get them down?" 

"They will," said Ron reassuringly. "They'll find a way"

"Mad, though, to do something like that when the whole Ministry of Magic's out here tonight!" I said. "I mean, how dothey expect to get away with it? Do you think they've been drinking, or are they just —" 

But I broke off abruptly and looked over my shoulder. Hermione,Harryand Ron looked quickly around too. It sounded as though someone was staggering toward their clearing. We waited, listening tothe sounds of the uneven steps behind the dark trees. But the footsteps came to a sudden halt.

 "Hello?" called Harry.

 There was silence. 

I got to my feet and peered around thetree. It was too dark to see very far, but I could sense somebodystanding just beyond the range of my vision. 

"Who's there?" I said.And then, without warning, the silence was rent by a voice unlike any we had heard in the wood; and it uttered, not a panickedshout, but what sounded like a spell. 

"MORSMORDRE!" 

And something vast, green, and glittering erupted from thepatch of darkness my eyes had been struggling to penetrate; itflew up over the treetops and into the sky. 

"What the — ?" gasped Harry as he sprang to his feet again, staring up at the thing that had appeared. 

For a split second, I thought it was another leprechaun formation. Then I realized that it was a colossal skull, comprised ofwhat looked like emerald stars, with a serpent protruding from itsmouth like a tongue. As we watched, it rose higher and higher,blazing in a haze of greenish smoke, etched against the black skylike a new constellation. 

Suddenly, the wood all around us erupted with screams. I didn't understand why, but the only possible cause was thesudden appearance of the skull, which had now risen high enoughto illuminate the entire wood like some grisly neon sign. I scanned the darkness for the person who had conjured the skull,but I couldn't see anyone. 

"Who's there?" I called again. 

"Emma, come on, move!" Hermione had seized the collar of my jacket and was tugging me backward. 

"What's the matter?" Harry said, startled to see her face so whiteand terrified. 

"It's the Dark Mark, Harry!" Hermione moaned, pulling me ashard as she could. "You-Know-Who's sign!"

 "Voldemort's — ?"

 "Harry, come on!"

 Harry turned — Ron was hurriedly scooping up his miniatureKrum — the four of us started across the clearing — but before they had taken a few hurried steps, a series of popping noisesannounced the arrival of twenty wizards, appearing from thin air,surrounding us. 

I whirled around, and in an instant, I registered one fact:Each of these wizards had his wand out, and every wand was pointing right at myself, Harry,  Ron, and Hermione.Without pausing to think, I yelled, "DUCK!" I seized the  two beside me and pulled them down onto the ground. 

Harry got down on his own.

"STUPEFY !" roared twenty voices — there was a blinding seriesof flashes and I felt the hair on me head ripple as though apowerful wind had swept the clearing. Raising my head a fractionof an inch I saw jets of fiery red light flying over us from the wizards' wands, crossing one another, bouncing off tree trunks, rebounding into the darkness — 

"Stop!" yelled a voice I recognized. "STOP! That's my son!" 

My hair stopped blowing about.I raised my head a littlehigher. The wizard in front of me had lowered his wand. He rolledover and saw Mr. Weasley striding toward them, looking terrified. 

"Ron — Harry" — his voice sounded shaky — "Emma--Hermione —are you all right?"

 "Out of the way, Arthur," said a cold, curt voice.It was Mr. Crouch. He and the other Ministry wizards were closing in on them. Harry got to his feet to face them.I was beside him.

 Mr. Crouch'sface was taut with rage."Which of you did it?" he snapped, his sharp eyes darting between them. "Which of you conjured the Dark Mark?"

 "We didn't do that!" said Harry, gesturing up at the skull. 

"We didn't do anything!" said Ron, who was rubbing his elbowand looking indignantly at his father. "What did you want to attack us for?"

 "Do not lie, sir!" shouted Mr. Crouch. His wand was still pointing directly at Ron, and his eyes were popping — he lookedslightly mad. "You have been discovered at the scene of the crime!" 

"Barty," whispered a witch in a long woolen dressing gown,"they're kids, Barty, they'd never have been able to —"

 "Where did the Mark come from, you four?" said Mr. Weasleyquickly. 

"Over there," said Hermione shakily, pointing at the placewhere we had heard the voice. "There was someone behind thetrees . . . they shouted words — an incantation —"

"Oh, stood over there, did they?" said Mr. Crouch, turning hispopping eyes on Hermione now, disbelief etched all over his face."Said an incantation, did they? You seem very well informed abouthow that Mark is summoned, missy —"

 But none of the Ministry wizards apart from Mr. Crouchseemed to think it remotely likely that Me, Harry, Ron, or Hermionehad conjured the skull; on the contrary, at Hermione's words, theyhad all raised their wands again and were pointing in the directionshe had indicated, squinting through the dark trees. 

"We're too late," said the witch in the woolen dressing gown,shaking her head. "They'll have Disapparated." 

"I don't think so," said a wizard with a scrubby brown beard.It was Amos Diggory, Cedric's father. "Our Stunners went rightthrough those trees. . . . There's a good chance we got them. . . ." 

"Amos, be careful!" said a few of the wizards warningly as Mr.Diggory squared his shoulders, raised his wand, marched across theclearing, and disappeared into the darkness. Hermione watchedhim vanish with her hands over her mouth. 

A few seconds later, we heard Mr. Diggory shout."Yes! We got them! There's someone here! Unconscious! It's —but — blimey . . ." 

"You've got someone?" shouted Mr. Crouch, sounding highlydisbelieving. "Who? Who is it?" 

We heard snapping twigs, the rustling of leaves, and thencrunching footsteps as Mr. Diggory reemerged from behind thetrees. He was carrying a tiny, limp figure in his arms. I recognized the tea towel at once. 

It was Winky. 

Mr. Crouch did not move or speak as Mr. Diggory deposited his elf on the ground at his feet. The other Ministry wizards were allstaring at Mr. Crouch. For a few seconds Crouch remained transfixed, his eyes blazing in his white face as he stared down at Winky.Then he appeared to come to life again.

 "This — cannot — be," he said jerkily. "No —" 

He moved quickly around Mr. Diggory and strode off towardthe place where he had found Winky."No point, Mr. Crouch," Mr. Diggory called after him. "There'sno one else there."But Mr. Crouch did not seem prepared to take his word for it. We could hear him moving around and the rustling of leaves ashe pushed the bushes aside, searching.

 "Bit embarrassing," Mr. Diggory said grimly, looking down atWinky's unconscious form. "Barty Crouch's house-elf . . . I meanto say . . ." 

"Come off it, Amos," said Mr. Weasley quietly, "you don'tseriously think it was the elf ? The Dark Mark's a wizard's sign. Itrequires a wand.

""Yeah," said Mr. Diggory, "and she had a wand." 

"What?" said Mr. Weasley. 

"Here, look." Mr. Diggory held up a wand and showed it to Mr.Weasley. "Had it in her hand. So that's clause three of the Code ofWand Use broken, for a start. No non-human creature is permittedto carry or use a wand."

 Just then there was another pop, and Ludo Bagman Apparatedright next to Mr. Weasley. Looking breathless and disorientated,he spun on the spot, goggling upward at the emerald-greenskull.

"The Dark Mark!" he panted, almost trampling Winky as heturned inquiringly to his colleagues. "Who did it? Did you getthem? Barty! What's going on?"Mr. Crouch had returned empty-handed. His face was stillghostly white, and his hands and his toothbrush mustache wereboth twitching. 

"Where have you been, Barty?" said Bagman. "Why weren't youat the match? Your elf was saving you a seat too — gulping gargoyles!" Bagman had just noticed Winky lying at his feet. "Whathappened to her?" 

"I have been busy, Ludo," said Mr. Crouch, still talking in thesame jerky fashion, barely moving his lips. "And my elf has beenstunned." 

"Stunned? By you lot, you mean? But why — ?"Comprehension dawned suddenly on Bagman's round, shinyface; he looked up at the skull, down at Winky, and then at Mr.Crouch."No!" he said. "Winky? Conjure the Dark Mark? She wouldn'tknow how! She'd need a wand, for a start!" 

"And she had one," said Mr. Diggory. "I found her holding one,Ludo. If it's all right with you, Mr. Crouch, I think we should hearwhat she's got to say for herself."

 Crouch gave no sign that he had heard Mr. Diggory, but Mr.Diggory seemed to take his silence for assent. He raised his ownwand, pointed it at Winky, and said, "Rennervate!"

 Winky stirred feebly. Her great brown eyes opened and sheblinked several times in a bemused sort of way. Watched by thesilent wizards, she raised herself shakily into a sitting position.  She caught sight of Mr. Diggory's feet, and slowly, tremulously,raised her eyes to stare up into his face; then, more slowly still, shelooked up into the sky. I could see the floating skull reflectedtwice in her enormous, glassy eyes. She gave a gasp, looked wildlyaround the crowded clearing, and burst into terrified sobs.

 "Elf !" said Mr. Diggory sternly. "Do you know who I am? I'm amember of the Department for the Regulation and Control ofMagical Creatures!" 

Winky began to rock backward and forward on the ground, herbreath coming in sharp bursts. I was reminded forcibly ofDobby in his moments of terrified disobedience."As you see, elf, the Dark Mark was conjured here a short whileago," said Mr. Diggory. "And you were discovered moments later,right beneath it! An explanation, if you please!"

 "I — I — I is not doing it, sir!" Winky gasped. "I is not knowing how, sir!" 

"You were found with a wand in your hand!" barked Mr. Diggory, brandishing it in front of her. And as the wand caught thegreen light that was filling the clearing from the skull above, I recognized it.

 "Hey — that's mine!" I said.Everyone in the clearing looked at me. 

"Excuse me?" said Mr. Diggory, incredulously.

 "That's my wand!" I said. "I dropped it!" 

"You dropped it?" repeated Mr. Diggory in disbelief. "Is this aconfession? You threw it aside after you conjured the Mark?"

"What?"

 "Amos, think who you're talking to!" said Mr. Weasley, very angrily. "Is  Emma Potter likely to conjure the Dark Mark?"

"Er — of course not," mumbled Mr. Diggory. "Sorry . . . carried away . . ." 

"I didn't drop it there, anyway," I said, jerking my thumbtoward the trees beneath the skull. "I missed it right after we gotinto the wood." 

"So," said Mr. Diggory, his eyes hardening as he turned to lookat Winky again, cowering at his feet. "You found this wand, eh, elf ?And you picked it up and thought you'd have some fun with it, didyou?"

 "I is not doing magic with it, sir!" squealed Winky, tears streaming down the sides of her squashed and bulbous nose. "I is . . . Iis . . . I is just picking it up, sir! I is not making the Dark Mark, sir,I is not knowing how!" 

"It wasn't her!" said Hermione. She looked very nervous, speaking up in front of all these Ministry wizards, yet determined all thesame. "Winky's got a squeaky little voice, and the voice we hearddoing the incantation was much deeper!"

 She looked around at Me, Harry and Ron, appealing for our support. "It didn't sound anything like Winky, did it?" 

"No," said Harry, shaking his head. "It definitely didn't soundlike an elf." 

"It sounded male." I added

"Yeah, it was a human voice," said Ron.

 "Well, we'll soon see," growled Mr. Diggory, looking unimpressed. "There's a simple way of discovering the last spell a wandperformed, elf, did you know that?" 

Winky trembled and shook her head frantically, her ears flapping, as Mr. Diggory raised his own wand again and placed it tip totip with mine. 

"Prior Incantato!" roared Mr. Diggory. I heard Hermione gasp, horrified, as a gigantic serpenttongued skull erupted from the point where the two wands met, butit was a mere shadow of the green skull high above us; it lookedas though it were made of thick gray smoke: the ghost of a spell. 

"Deletrius!" Mr. Diggory shouted, and the smoky skull vanishedin a wisp of smoke."So," said Mr. Diggory with a kind of savage triumph, lookingdown upon Winky, who was still shaking convulsively. 

"I is not doing it!" she squealed, her eyes rolling in terror. "I isnot, I is not, I is not knowing how! I is a good elf, I isn't usingwands, I isn't knowing how!"

 "You've been caught red-handed, elf !" Mr. Diggory roared."Caught with the guilty wand in your hand !"

 "Amos," said Mr. Weasley loudly, "think about it . . . preciousfew wizards know how to do that spell. . . . Where would she havelearned it?"

 "Perhaps Amos is suggesting," said Mr. Crouch, cold anger inevery syllable, "that I routinely teach my servants to conjure theDark Mark?"There was a deeply unpleasant silence.

 Amos Diggory lookedhorrified. "Mr. Crouch . . . not . . . not at all . . ." 

"You have now come very close to accusing the two people in thisclearing who are least likely to conjure that Mark!" barked Mr.Crouch. "Emma Potter — and myself ! I suppose you are familiarwith the girl's story, Amos?"

 "Of course — everyone knows —" muttered Mr. Diggory, looking highly discomforted. 

"And I trust you remember the many proofs I have given, over a long career, that I despise and detest the Dark Arts and those whopractice them?" Mr. Crouch shouted, his eyes bulging again. 

"Mr. Crouch, I — I never suggested you had anything to dowith it!" Amos Diggory muttered again, now reddening behind hisscrubby brown beard.

 "If you accuse my elf, you accuse me, Diggory!" shouted Mr.Crouch. "Where else would she have learned to conjure it?"

 "She — she might've picked it up anywhere —"

 "Precisely, Amos," said Mr. Weasley. "She might have picked it upanywhere. . . . Winky?" he said kindly, turning to the elf, but sheflinched as though he too was shouting at her. "Where exactly didyou find Emma's wand?" 

Winky was twisting the hem of her tea towel so violently that itwas fraying beneath her fingers."I — I is finding it . . . finding it there, sir. . . ." she whispered,"there . . . in the trees, sir. . . ." 

"You see, Amos?" said Mr. Weasley. "Whoever conjured theMark could have Disapparated right after they'd done it, leaving Emma's wand behind. A clever thing to do, not using their ownwand, which could have betrayed them. And Winky here hadthe misfortune to come across the wand moments later and pickit up. 

"But then, she'd have been only a few feet away from the realculprit!" said Mr. Diggory impatiently. "Elf ? Did you see anyone?" 

Winky began to tremble worse than ever. Her giant eyes flickered from Mr. Diggory, to Ludo Bagman, and onto Mr. Crouch.Then she gulped and said, "I is seeing no one, sir . . . no one . . ." 

"Amos," said Mr. Crouch curtly, "I am fully aware that, in theordinary course of events, you would want to take Winky into your department for questioning. I ask you, however, to allow me todeal with her." 

Mr. Diggory looked as though he didn't think much of this suggestion at all, but it was clear to me that Mr. Crouch was suchan important member of the Ministry that he did not dare refusehim. 

"You may rest assured that she will be punished," Mr. Crouchadded coldly. 

"M-m-master . . ." Winky stammered, looking up at Mr. Crouch,her eyes brimming with tears. "M-m-master, p-p-please . . ."

 Mr. Crouch stared back, his face somehow sharpened, each lineupon it more deeply etched. There was no pity in his gaze."Winky has behaved tonight in a manner I would not have believed possible," he said slowly. "I told her to remain in the tent. Itold her to stay there while I went to sort out the trouble. And Ifind that she disobeyed me. This means clothes." 

"No!" shrieked Winky, prostrating herself at Mr. Crouch's feet."No, master! Not clothes, not clothes!"

Harry and I knew that the only way to turn a house-elf free was to present it with proper garments. It was pitiful to see the way Winkyclutched at her tea towel as she sobbed over Mr. Crouch's feet. 

"But she was frightened!" Hermione burst out angrily, glaring atMr. Crouch. "Your elf 's scared of heights, and those wizards inmasks were levitating people! You can't blame her for wanting toget out of their way!" 

Mr. Crouch took a step backward, freeing himself from contactwith the elf, whom he was surveying as though she were somethingfilthy and rotten that was contaminating his over-shined shoes."I have no use for a house-elf who disobeys me," he said coldly, looking over at Hermione. "I have no use for a servant who forgetswhat is due to her master, and to her master's reputation."

 Winky was crying so hard that her sobs echoed around the clearing. There was a very nasty silence, which was ended by Mr.Weasley, who said quietly,

 "Well, I think I'll take my lot back to thetent, if nobody's got any objections. Amos, that wand's told us all itcan — if Emma could have it back, please —" 

Mr. Diggory handed Me my wand and I pocketed it."Come on, you three," Mr. Weasley said quietly. But Hermionedidn't seem to want to move; her eyes were still upon the sobbingelf. 

"Hermione!" Mr. Weasley said, more urgently.

 She turned andfollowed Me, Harry and Ron out of the clearing and off through thetrees."What's going to happen to Winky?" said Hermione, the moment they had left the clearing. 

"I don't know," said Mr. Weasley. 

"The way they were treating her!" said Hermione furiously. "Mr.Diggory, calling her 'elf ' all the time . . . and Mr. Crouch! Heknows she didn't do it and he's still going to sack her! He didn't carehow frightened she'd been, or how upset she was — it was like shewasn't even human!" 

"Well, she's not," said Ron.Hermione rounded on him. 

"That doesn't mean she hasn't got feelings, Ron. It's disgustingthe way —"

 "Hermione, I agree with you," said Mr. Weasley quickly, beckoning her on, "but now is not the time to discuss elf rights. I wantto get back to the tent as fast as we can. What happened to theothers?"

"We lost them in the dark," said Ron. "Dad, why was everyone souptight about that skull thing?" 

"I'll explain everything back at the tent," said Mr. Weasleytensely.But when we reached the edge of the wood, our progress wasimpeded. A large crowd of frightened-looking witches and wizardswas congregated there, and when they saw Mr. Weasley coming toward them, many of them surged forward. 

"What's going on in there?"

 "Who conjured it?" 

"Arthur — it's not — Him?" 

"Of course it's not Him," said Mr. Weasley impatiently. "Wedon't know who it was; it looks like they Disapparated. Now excuseme, please, I want to get to bed." 

He led Me, Harry, Ron, and Hermione through the crowd and backinto the campsite. All was quiet now; there was no sign of themasked wizards, though several ruined tents were still smoking.Charlie's head was poking out of the boys' tent."Dad, what's going on?" he called through the dark. "Fred,George, and Ginny got back okay, but the others —" 

"I've got them here," said Mr. Weasley, bending down and entering the tent. Me, Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered after him.Bill was sitting at the small kitchen table, holding a bedsheet tohis arm, which was bleeding profusely. Charlie had a large rip in hisshirt, and Percy was sporting a bloody nose. Fred, George, andGinny looked unhurt, though shaken. 

"Did you get them, Dad?" said Bill sharply. "The person whoconjured the Mark?" 

"No," said Mr. Weasley. "We found Barty Crouch's elf holding  Emma's wand, but we're none the wiser about who actually conjured the Mark." 

"What?" said Bill, Charlie, and Percy together.

 "Emma's wand?" said Fred. 

"Mr. Crouch's elf ?" said Percy, sounding thunderstruck. 

With some assistance from Me, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, Mr.Weasley explained what had happened in the woods. When theyhad finished their story, Percy swelled indignantly. 

"Well, Mr. Crouch is quite right to get rid of an elf like that!" hesaid. "Running away when he'd expressly told her not to . . . embarrassing him in front of the whole Ministry . . . how would thathave looked, if she'd been brought up in front of the Departmentfor the Regulation and Control —"

 "She didn't do anything — she was just in the wrong place atthe wrong time!" Hermione snapped at Percy, who looked verytaken aback. Hermione had always got on fairly well with Percy —better, indeed, than any of the others.

 "Hermione, a wizard in Mr. Crouch's position can't afford ahouse-elf who's going to run amok with a wand!" said Percypompously, recovering himself. 

"She didn't run amok!" shouted Hermione. "She just picked itup off the ground!" 

"Look, can someone just explain what that skull thing was?" saidRon impatiently. "It wasn't hurting anyone. . . . Why's it such a bigdeal?"

 " it's You-Know-Who's symbol, Ron," I said,before anyone else could answer. "I read about it in The Rise andFall of the Dark Arts."

 "And it hasn't been seen for thirteen years," said Mr. Weasley quietly. "Of course people panicked . . . it was almost like seeingYou-Know-Who back again."

 "I don't get it," said Ron, frowning. "I mean . . . it's still only ashape in the sky. . . ." 

"Ron, You-Know-Who and his followers sent the Dark Markinto the air whenever they killed," said Mr. Weasley. "The terror itinspired . . . you have no idea, you're too young. Just picture coming home and finding the Dark Mark hovering over your house,and knowing what you're about to find inside. . . ." Mr. Weasleywinced. "Everyone's worst fear . . . the very worst . . ." 

There was silence for a moment. Then Bill, removing the sheetfrom his arm to check on his cut, said, "Well, it didn't help ustonight, whoever conjured it. It scared the Death Eaters away themoment they saw it. They all Disapparated before we'd got nearenough to unmask any of them. We caught the Robertses beforethey hit the ground, though. They're having their memories modified right now." 

"Death Eaters?" said Harry. "What are Death Eaters?"

 "It's what You-Know-Who's supporters called themselves," saidBill. "I think we saw what's left of them tonight — the ones whomanaged to keep themselves out of Azkaban, anyway." 

"We can't prove it was them, Bill," said Mr. Weasley. "Though itprobably was," he added hopelessly.

 "Yeah, I bet it was!" said Ron suddenly. "Dad, we met DracoMalfoy in the woods, and he as good as told us his dad was one ofthose nutters in masks! And we all know the Malfoys were right inwith You-Know-Who!" 

"Shut up, Ron--"

"But what were Voldemort's supporters —" Harry began. Everybody flinched — like most of the wizarding world, the Weasleysalways avoided saying Voldemort's name. "Sorry," said Harryquickly. "What were You-Know-Who's supporters up to, levitatingMuggles? I mean, what was the point?" 

"The point?" said Mr. Weasley with a hollow laugh. "Harry,that's their idea of fun. Half the Muggle killings back when YouKnow-Who was in power were done for fun. I suppose they had afew drinks tonight and couldn't resist reminding us all that lots ofthem are still at large. A nice little reunion for them," he finisheddisgustedly.

 "But if they were the Death Eaters, why did they Disapparatewhen they saw the Dark Mark?" said Ron. "They'd have beenpleased to see it, wouldn't they?" 

"Use your brains, Ron," said Bill. "If they really were DeathEaters, they worked very hard to keep out of Azkaban when YouKnow-Who lost power, and told all sorts of lies about him forcingthem to kill and torture people. I bet they'd be even more frightened than the rest of us to see him come back. They denied they'dever been involved with him when he lost his powers, and wentback to their daily lives. . . . I don't reckon he'd be over-pleasedwith them, do you?"

 "So . . . whoever conjured the Dark Mark . . ." I said slowly, "were they doing it to show support for the Death Eaters, orto scare them away?"

 "Your guess is as good as ours, Emma," said Mr. Weasley."But I'll tell you this . . . it was only the Death Eaters who everknew how to conjure it. I'd be very surprised if the person who didit hadn't been a Death Eater once, even if they're not now. . . . Listen, it's very late, and if your mother hears what's happenedshe'll be worried sick. We'll get a few more hours sleep and then tryand get an early Portkey out of here."

 I got back into his bunk with my head buzzing. I knew I ought to feel exhausted: It was nearly three in the morning, but I felt wide-awake — wide-awake, and worried.Three days ago — it felt like much longer, but it had only beenthree days — Harry and I had awoken with our scars burning. And tonight,for the first time in thirteen years, Lord Voldemort's mark had appeared in the sky. 

What did these things mean?

I thought of the letter we had written to Sirius before leavingPrivet Drive. Would Sirius have gotten it yet? When would hereply? I lay looking up at the canvas, but no flying fantasiescame to me now to sleep, and it was a long time after Ginny's shallow breathing filled the tent that I finally dozed off.

OMG I GOT IK READS ON THIS BOOK!! TYSMMMMMMMMMMMM

Peace Out!

-Pocketful_of_Words